


To Seek Happiness

by JAEKYUU



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi, Zutter (Song), mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7173431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAEKYUU/pseuds/JAEKYUU
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Family is the one thing you never abandon- no matter if it's family by birth or from blood-stained oaths. When Jiyong (and by default, Youngbae too) stumbles upon a captured Seunghyun while sneaking into YG's HQ, their ordinary thug lives (much swag) take a drastic turn for the worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I realize that Zutter has been released for quite a while already.. But being a hungry new VIP, I've decided to shamelessly post a fic inspired by it :3

Things had been easy and uncomplicated at first- when they had first taken the job, it seemed like a piece of cake. The task was to sneak into a bland, innocuous-looking building when the sun had set and then destroy all the contents in the safe hidden in the room on the highest floor. It wasn’t as if it was a mafia don’s mini HQ or anything like that. Nope.

When Jiyong had finally managed to pry open the ventilator shaft on the rooftop, Youngbae had already hit up their emergency panic button, and the sharp beeping in his ear was all he could hear as armed men in crisp tuxedo suits burst into the scene.

“Show me your hands! Don’t move!”

Dazed, Jiyong could only stare as he was quickly tackled and manhandled into a chokehold, forcing him to drop the crowbars and onto the cold hard floor. Struggling to breathe, he could hear Youngbae’s distressed cries, asking if he was alright. He silently urged Youngbae to run, run and don’t look back, biting his lips shut in order to not alert his captors of his earpiece. Unfortunately, his hope was short-lived and the small device was very quickly crushed underfoot. Hoping with all his heart that his childhood friend had already fled the scene, Jiyong kept still as his captors tumbled him into the very room he was to break into and sat him on a sad little chair. It was yellow and dirty, and had urgently needed to be replaced, but it had held firm when he was tied onto it with ropes. When the dizziness had finally relented, he noticed a man, looking as wrecked as Jiyong himself felt, sitting slumped on his side and breathing shallowly. He didn’t have much time to ponder on the who’s and why’s however, as they were both very rudely splashed with ice cold water.

“Gahhh!”

“Awake? Now tell me, are the two of you working on this shit together? Huuuuh?”

Spluttering in indignation at the less than stellar treatment, Jiyong spat out an angry, “Of course not, genius. I don’t even know him!” Right after that, the stranger sat next to him blinked at him and resembled a kicked puppy. “Are you abandoning me? Aren’t we in this together, partner?”

“Aha!” The man in the tuxedo suit cried out triumphantly, he knew there were no such things as coincidences in life! He quickly gestured to another man lurking in the shadows behind them, and said, “I want you to look after them well, and make sure they don’t escape. You can play with them if they misbehave but I want them to be able to be presented to Boss, alright?”

The man, who wore a very ugly ski mask in Jiyong’s professional opinion, nodded silently and made a grimacing face at them.  
Jiyong had to say something here, he was innocent, dammit! He hadn’t even managed to properly break in, dammit!

“Wait wait, listen to me! I’m not part of whatever you think I’m in, I don’t know this creep and I haven’t even done anything! Hey, are you listening? Hey-!”

A slammed door was his only answer as the Rude Tuxedo Man, dubbed silently in Jiyong’s mind, bustled out of the room excitedly. Mr. Ski Mask hadn’t even reacted to his outburst, and had calmly resettled back into his small corner of doom and gloom with a magazine in hand.

Now furious, Jiyong turned onto the one remaining occupant of the room. “Yah! Why did you say you know me? What did you even do?”

Blinking innocently, the stranger, (who had really pretty doe eyes, which Jiyong’s traitorous mind unhelpfully informed him) shrugged lazily. “I was bored, and you’re a cutie. Makes sense to me.”  
Jiyong spent the next few minutes of his life trying to figure the other man out, only to learn that, one, his name was Seunghyun, and two, he was a perverted lowlife like everyone else (the exception being Youngbae, who was practically angel reincarnated).

“You’re bleedin’ all over the floor, practically black and blue from head to toe and you’re trying to hit on me?”

“What can I say, it’s my specialty,” he shrugged.

“Aish!”

Turning away from their ridiculous banter, Jiyong began to scan the room for an escape route. The room he was thrown into was pretty lavish, with red, flowing drapes decorating the closed windows. A throne-like chair, looking neither comfortable nor practical, was placed behind a big mahogany desk. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the large piece of art that was probably hiding the safe that he had to crack. The room looked relatively untouched, but Jiyong could see that many a struggle had broken out in this room. The crimson carpet and the red drapes had discolored spots that implied past vigorous scrubbings. 

He was reminded grimly that his situation was dire, despite the hilarity of it all, and that Youngbae was also in danger now, and that he really was a piece of shit for putting his best friend through this time and time again. He didn’t want to have Youngbae bail him out of trouble again, but here he was, tied up next to a weirdo and left to rot.

Jiyong wasn’t an overly dramatic person, but shit takes the cake when said stranger tries to nibble on his freaking ears oh my god!

“YAH! What are you doing?!” 

Jerking backwards, he glared incredulously as the man sat back and blinked prettily.

“Are you messing with me?”

Seunghyun merely huffed in return and said in a very petulant voice, “I’m bored. I’ve been in here for weeks and you’re the first exciting thing to happen alright? Mr. Exciting over there is like a piece of rock.”

Without thinking, Jiyong blurted out, “His name is Mr. Ski Mask.” A second later, a horrified expression erupted on his face and blotchy redness spread quickly across his cheeks.  
Seunghyun burst out laughing and he couldn’t be stopped until Jiyong managed to successfully headbutt him from the world’s most awkward angle possible.

Anything is better than being stuck with this guy, he thought, with cheeks still aflame and warm.

____________________________________________________

 

Meanwhile, Youngbae was furiously typing away on his keyboard, desperate to contact any of their remaining acquaintances for knowledge of the YG mafia. Without Youngbae, Jiyong would fail in life and without Jiyong, Youngbae would rather go die in a ditch. He had to get his partner out of there, and fast.

A few frantic moments later, his fingers, sore and hurting from use, hovered hesitantly above the keyboard as his eyes lingered on a name he’d rather not see for the rest of his life. He’d really really rather not, but it seems like the trouble they were in this time was too big for anyone else they know to handle. No matter how hard things had gotten, and no matter how much indignities they had to suffer together, they had never seen guns or heavy artillery like that, nor be forced into a situation in which they have to use such things. With his heart pounding loudly in his chest, Youngbae quickly hacked into that man’s personal ‘blog’ and left a message and a number.

Sighing heavily, Youngbae slumped backwards into his chair and prayed for the best. “Yah, Jiyongie-ah, you better hold on, I’m coming to get you out okay?”

__________________________________________________ 

Jiyong had spent an hour agonizing over a plan that he had tentatively devised under the careful watch of Mr. Ski Mask, and he couldn’t come to a conclusion about helping the pitiable man sat next to him, drooling on his right shoulder. Should he rescue him as well and enjoy the benefits of gloating, or should he just leave him behind to prevent being burdened? Unknowingly, Jiyong had felt bad for Seunghyun; despite his jokes and his ridiculous expressions, the taller man had passed out from pain some time ago and Jiyong suspected that he had been held here for much longer than it seems. His injuries didn’t look light, and he doubted that he would last much longer without medical help. However, Jiyong was also well aware of his small frame (and his relatively weaker strength, which he grudgingly admits), and it was unlikely that he would be able to escape while carrying Seunghyun.

His moral dilemma, however, came to an end when Rude Tuxedo Man came crashing back into the room with a villainous smile. “Mr. Yang will come soon, just wait quietly here. You’ll at least meet someone amazing before you go.” With his arrival, several tuxedo-donning men filed into the room, each one looking more armed than the one before. The amount of heavy artillery shook him up, and he wasn’t sure he would rather risk anymore physical harm. Hell, he wouldn’t care about keeping his client confidentiality anymore if it could prevent him dying today.

He twisted his shoulders roughly, and the man sat next to him jolted back into consciousness. His bleary eyes took in the sight of the additional guests in the room, and promptly snuggled back into Jiyong’s shoulder. With disbelief, Jiyong trembled in silent fury and vowed to slobber all over him in revenge if they ever manage to escape. 

From the corner of his eyes, Jiyong watched Mr. Ski Mask suppress a yawn, and a fellow gruntie stumbling in to take his shift. This is my chance, he thought. 

The next few moments happened in quick succession: Mr. Ski Mask had been nudged to head outside by the grunt. However, Rude Tuxedo Man had taken that moment to semi-step into the room in which Jiyong had been so pleasantly kept in. In that split second, Jiyong had wriggled his right wrist free, painfully stretching the ropes to its limit. Too late to back out now, Jiyong decided to go through with his half-assed plan anyways and managed to dislocate his wrist before twisting free from the ropes. Rude Tuxedo Man was startled when the small, orange-headed man came barreling into him, knocking him flat on his ass. Shouts of confusion rung through the air as the two grappled for control, each trying to wrestle the other down. 

Seunghyun watched all the drama unfold, eyes wide and mouth agape. He tried to busy his hands and do what Jiyong did, but before he could do anything significant, the relatively pudgy looking grunt stepped forward and shouted right into his ear,

“Stop! Or he dies!”

The two wrestling on the floor gave him no notice, until a loud gunshot resonated through the air. Frozen in shock, Jiyong was tackled onto the floor by Mr. Ski Mask and pressed onto the rough carpet firmly, allowing him no second chance to break free from the hold. Similarly, Seunghyun was held deathly still- the bullet shot earlier had missed his right cheek by mere centimeters. 

“That, was a warning shot.” A different voice, a different face. 

A well-dressed man strolled past the entire lot, face impassive in spite of his intimidating aura. He sat himself on the grandly decorated chair, and waved his hand to address his men, who were already bowing their heads in respect. 

Oh shit, it's him. It's Yang Hyun Suk. Jiyong could only tremble, even as Rude Tuxedo Man had eased his grip. He desperately tried to think of a peace offering he could make to the Don keep his life, with no avail.

“Now then, what is it I hear about runts sneaking into my home?”


	2. Joining YG Family

The room was silent, tension and fearful anticipation thick in the air. Yang Hyun Suk, who had not said a word after his initial greeting, sat still and quiet, judging the duo in front of him with impassive eyes. In contrast, Jiyong and Seunghyun were almost shivering, one in cold and one in fright. 

“So.. 10 years..” Hyun Suk eyed them warily. “Not once in 10 years did anyone discover my stronghold, much less successfully sneak into it, and the first team who manages to do this is made of shrimpy looking kids?” 

Ahh, this explained the abnormal amount of thugs lingering around here now. It hadn’t been a simple storage building like the client promised it to be. He cursed silently to himself- it was his own fault for blindly trusting the shady information he’d been given. Now he’d compromised everything. Things had finally been looking up for him and Youngbae too, he thought bitterly. 

“How far into the building did you manage to break into? I'm guessing not as far as you hoped, as you had to call your backup man to bail you out early,” he gestured drily to a frozen, wide eyed Jiyong. 

“Ah, no wait, I'm not his back up man, I'm just a passerby really..”

Hyun Suk snorted and turned away, “Right, and pigs fly too.” He sighed, “Listen kids, return the thumb drive you’ve stolen and send a message for me to your.. client,” he spat out distastefully, “..and I'll let it go, no strings attached. Pretty good deal, eh? Considering that I'm tempted to just off the two of you just for associating with them.”

Panicked, Jiyong attempted to plead his relative innocence again, “S-sir, I was really just here to take from,” he gestured, “That vault over there..sir. My client instructed me to just stuff whatever I could find and high tail out ASAP. I didn't hear anything about a thumb drive, I swear!”

Contrary to Jiyong’s hope to be let off easy, the Don’s expression actually grew to be more unreadable at his words. After a tense few seconds, he growled, “How did you know the code for the vault? Do you have someone working in NASA?” 

Lost, Jiyong could only stutter out a small no. What’s NASA got to do with anything?

All of a sudden, Seunghyun spoke out loudly, drawing attention to himself for once. Jiyong, in mid-cringe, also turned to stare at his unbelievable words.

“We know that the code for your vault is a copy of the activation code for several missiles that the North Korean government keeps. And if we don't check in after 3 days, our client will be alerted immediately when our third man finishes this job for us. Unless, of course, if you have a better offer for us,” challenged Seunghyun, with bright eyes and an undisguised smirk. 

Scrubbing at his face in frustration, the Don sighed heavily before stating blandly to the duo, “Alright, let's make a deal. Tell me everything about your client, join my side of this turf war, and I'll offer your entire team twice of what he's paying you. Of course, you'll have to be monitored to prevent any..,” he grimaced, “..disloyalty when he reinitiate contact.”

Nobody spoke for a full minute, and Jiyong saw Mr. Yang purse his lips in disdain. Jiyong made himself a little smaller and stayed quiet, wary of the potential outburst and feeling twitchy from unease. The stare-off between the Don and Seunghyun continued on, both sides becoming more frustrated and impatient. When he couldn’t take it no more, Jiyong had hurriedly cut in, “Yes, okay we’ll take the deal, it seems pretty fair. But you have to let us out first, or we can't contact the rest of our team.” And, it would be him massacring us and not the other way around when all that patience he’s holding on to dissipates. “..And, I guess the question is if you trust in our bunch long enough for us to work this out or if you're too c-chicken to take a risk.”

Grudgingly, the Don tore his eyes away from the still-defiant Seunghyun, and cooly addressed the orange-haired man. “And I assume you speak for him as well?” He kicked at Seunghyun’s bound feet, earning a grunt of pain from the other man. 

“He's my partner, we come as a deal.” 

Internally hoping with all his heart that Seunghyun wouldn't fuck around with the tower of lies they'd created to save their necks, Jiyong continued on with newfound bravado. “So do we have a deal, boss?” 

To his fortune, the Don seemed to be amused at his words instead. He quirked an eyebrow before mockingly applauding his words. 

“Well then, welcome to YG Family.” 

____________________________________________________

 

They were quickly stripped free from their bondage, wrapped in restricting linen (that had appeared out of nowhere, Jiyong swears) and then bundled up into a small black van. The duo had been forced to wear blindfolds and had to totter into the van awkwardly with minimal help, discounting all the impatient shoving from the grunts. As things were, the two found themselves instinctively grabbing at each other for support, and Jiyong had exasperatedly decided to just hold Seunghyun’s hands to prevent the older man from fumbling around his torso so much in his attempt to stabilize himself. 

Once they were in the van, Jiyong slumped exhaustedly against the grimacing Seunghyun, and then felt a little bad for Seunghyun, who immediately curled up into a ball of misery by his side. The other man had been in a much worse condition than he, and Jiyong suspected that Seunghyun had broken something in his legs for he had to limp very obviously during his attempt to stumble his way through the building and into the van. He also knew for sure that Seunghyun had a bad concussion from his dilated eyes when they were trapped in the room together, but the severity of it hadn’t fully registered then. Once the adrenaline lessened, Jiyong could tell that Seunghyun urgently needed medical help, but none of the grunts listened when Jiyong had insisted on it.

“Listen kid,” spat Rude Tuxedo Man, “he’ll get what he deserves later when we arrive, and if he's too weak to survive then that's too bad.” He harrumphed at Jiyong (for the 3rd time that day) before settling back into the cushy leather seats. Jiyong sighed loudly, it looked like they would get no assistance despite being ‘introduced’ into the family. He shifted a little, allowing the drowsy older man to lean his head comfortably against him. 

He muttered, “Don't fall asleep you freak, we still have to get out of his together.” He pinched the side of the older man, jolting him from his drowsiness and received only an annoyed grumble as thanks for trying to preserve Seunghyun’s sorry ass. Jiyong huffed in annoyance as well, before resolving himself to keep up his own good work. 

The ride passed without much incidence after that, with the exception of the occasional pinch and the occasional grumbling. 

When they’d arrived, their blindfolds were ripped off and the duo were quickly hustled into a small dingy convenience store with broken lights and dirty walls. They were pushed up the second floor and into a tiny room, presumably the ‘office’ of the place and sat down roughly. At least this time they didn’t tie us up, thought Jiyong wryly. Not a second later, a casually dressed man strolled in, as leisurely as he could be, draping a warm hand across Jiyong’s shoulder. 

“Hello, newbie. Looks like I’ll be your handler for now,” drawled the man lazily. “You may call me Se7en-hyung, or just hyung, but forget the honorific and I’ll forget to keep the safety on when I use you for target practice.”

Jiyong wanted to punch the smirk off his face. 

“Still, I’m expected to play babysitter right now so I guess, first things first, hmm?” He gestured at one of the grunties and motioned for someone to bring a first aid kit. “In our line of business, no hospitals, no schools, and no traitors, yeah?” He smacked Seunghyun’s cheek lightly, and guffawed when the other man swatted it away irritatedly. “Can’t say much when Mr. Yang himself tells me to keep you little puppies in line, but if I was him, I would’ve nipped y’all before you grow to be a problem, yeah? Can’t say I have much love for children,” he sneered.

Jiyong could only bite his lips to stop himself from retorting back.

“So tell me, how exactly did you two escape his wrath? From what I hear, he’s finally got his hands on someone who might’ve known who kidnapped his late daughter.. but I guess that rumor ain’t true since you’re sitting here right now...alive,” he eyed the two of them curiously. He noticed Rude Tuxedo Man stiffen noticeably at his remark, and chuckled in silent understanding. He withdrew from Jiyong’s personal space and patted Rude Tuxedo Man’s shoulder twice before strolling right back out the room again.

“Clean yerselves up and come see me again once you’ve stopped smelling so foul. We’ve still got to bring in the rest of your team, aye?”

__________________________________________________

Disinfecting wounds had always been an easy task for Jiyong, a little distasteful, but easy. He and Youngbae had gotten into too many fights with too many people over the years for it to not be an instinctual skill. However, the slouching man in front of him had to be the most difficult patient he’d ever treated in his short 21 years of life. 

“Goddamn, sit still!” Jiyong grabbed at Seunghyun’s arm, fingernails digging into skin painfully as he struggled to dab alcohol into the many scratches that littered his face and upper torso. Spitefully, Jiyong had tacked on little pink Hello Kitty bandaids on the smaller wounds (he really didn’t want to know who were on supply duties) before Seunghyun could duck out from his grasp again. 

“It stings..” he cried out, childishly sticking his tongue out when Jiyong merely ignored him. It was hard to reconcile this Seunghyun to the other one who had stood up to Yang Hyun Suk so daringly earlier, and so Jiyong decided to ignore the uncomfortable contradiction for now in favor of holding off his incoming headache. He reached down to tentatively put pressure on the older man’s right leg, section by section in order to try to determine which area had been hurt the most. Seunghyun had cried out pitifully the entire time, but the exasperated man could tell that it had been his ankle that had hurt the most. He cautiously removed the leather shoes (it was no Lanvin, but beautifully crafted nonetheless), wrinkled his nose at the smell of days-old socks, and narrowed his eyes, trying to inspect the swollen ankle better. That had been his primary concern-- his own hand had already been tended to so he hadn’t been quite as worried about it. 

He’d seen much worse, but the swelling of Seunghyun’s ankle was bad. Jiyong nudged Seunghyun’s leg back into a comfortable position gently before standing up, stretching his wiry arms tiredly and loosening the knots of tension on his back. “Looks like you need to properly ice that ankle, but your leg isn’t broken or anything. Very badly sprained, I’ll say. Just stay off it for at least a week and you should be good.”

Seunghyun nodded, a small little smile playing at the corner of his lips. His eyes twinkled a little, be it in gratitude or amusement at him, Jiyong did not know. Meeting Seunghyun had been an..interesting experience, not one he would regret per say, but it’d uncovered the childish side of him that he’d buried years ago. Strangely, he did not feel uncomfortable around the older man, and much less cautious with him than any other stranger that he’d met before.

Se7en (-hyung, tacked on by Jiyong’s brain) had brought them clean clothes and medicine, and had prompted shoved them into a small tiny apartment-like place and then locked the door. It had a small living room, a semi-functional bathroom and a single mattress in the lone bedroom attached to the place. The walls were cement and windowless, and Jiyong was pretty sure that there would be no wifi nor any working communication devices available to them just yet. Se7en hyung, had said that his men would carefully comb through their belongings before handing it back to them, and Jiyong had been told that they would allow the duo to bring in their third man after that. Jiyong prayed to the God he didn't believe in, hoping that Youngbae’s identity could be kept secret for just a moment longer. He had been trying to brainstorm on who he could make into a scapegoat-- if only he could find someone willing enough to risk death to pretend to be Youngbae, then he’d be able to work something out for payment. Sadly, most of his contacts had run dry after the fiasco at Japan. 

In the silence of the room, the absence of sound (Seunghyun’s un-adorable snuffling didn’t count) made Jiyong think of wistful things. Of Youngbae and his constant nagging, of the steaming hot mocha drinks bestowed on him when he worked late hours, of his gentle words and even gentler hands after night falls, and oh, Jiyong misses him so. 

After properly tucking Seunghyun in on the small mattress, ice pack on his leg and all, Jiyong slipped under a thin ratty blanket before readjusting the one on Seunghyun, and gazed emptily at the ceiling, wishing to see his best friend soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: Thug Life.


	3. Thug Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to use 'Baby Skin', but 'Dunking' is too hilarious. Zutter MV has the best names :')

It was peaceful and quiet in Youngbae’s small apartment; the morning light shining through the windows and onto his face, soft in sleep and displaying none of his earlier worries. The bedroom door was left ajar, and careful footsteps pitter pattered around outside. He twitched into awareness, sleep fogged eyes opening and sharpening into paranoid ones when the clinking of metal could be heard. 

Guns.

Slipping into a crouch and plastering himself behind his bedroom door, Youngbae prepared himself for the worst. He could take down most opponents if they didn’t differ too much in terms of physical endowment, but most of the time he only took fights head on if he knows Jiyong to be around to watch his back. It’s do or die, he thought grimly. 

The footsteps faltered outside his bedroom door, and Youngbae waited for the stranger to come closer before jumping out. Surprisingly, the intruder was uncharacteristically slow, almost hesitant when opening said door, but as he did so, Youngbae slammed the door backwards from where he was and into the intruder’s face, gaining a pained yelp from him. 

Youngbae proceeded to tackle him from behind, pulling no punches as he tried to knock the intruder unconscious.

“Ow! What?! Stop! Hyung!!”

A fist paused mid-air, frozen in place by the familiar voice of a dongsaeng he and Jiyong had frequently hung out with. 

“Daesungie?”

The rather buffy-looking man under Youngbae flashed a bloodied grin and a blackened eye-smile at him, blinding despite the injuries. Youngbae laughed, equal parts relieved and happy. 

“It’s been too long, man. Where have you been?”  
He held out an arm for Daesung to cling onto before dragging him up on his feet. They stumbled into the kitchen area and Youngbae poured them both some tea. 

“Well, not much.. Word around town is that Jiyong’s been taken, so.. I came by to see if I could help.. And I wasn’t sure who I’d find, so I thought I should be a little careful like y’all always tell me to..” he shuffled on his feet, a little abashed and embarrassed. Now relaxed and at ease in the presence of Youngbae, he put away a small, worn pistol, given to him years ago by his late father. It was more ornamental than pragmatic, but Daesung had mostly used it for show anyways. He was always known to be timid in personality and he was not the most street-smart either, but Youngbae and Jiyong had helped him out many years ago when he’d gotten into trouble with some local gangs. Daesung was a loyal person, even if he was nothing else. 

Youngbae couldn’t help but smile, affection and gratitude blooming in his chest. He clapped approvingly at Daesung’s back, and teased him playfully, “Knew we kept you around for a reason.” The two shared a quiet moment, holding onto their steaming cups without actually taking a sip. Eventually, Youngbae grew fidgety in worry again, and the two of them launched right back into the issue at hand. Daesung had always been the thinker, the philosopher, and it was always him that manages to think of escape plans whenever Youngbae and Jiyong had gotten into trouble.. This time though, a small, dark part of Daesung whispered to him, that this time, he won’t be enough to save Jiyong, and that he won’t be enough to save Youngbae from the fallout later either. 

Shaking his head free from that niggling seed of doubt, Daesung plastered on his brightest smile for Youngbae and tried to look reassuring. First things first, cheer Youngbae up enough to feed him something. He had a feeling that this simple cup of tea he was holding onto right now was the first piece of food that Youngbae had prepared for himself in days. He knew the secret of distracting Youngbae from his woes-- it was to not change the topic at hand but instead work with him on it, thus appeasing said man enough to allow him to be agreeable to short breaks in-between of whatever he was caught up in at that time. 

After many exhaustive hours, the duo managed to work out a tentative plan: Youngbae would hack into YG’s administrative system to steal a blueprint of the building’s layout, but he shall not try to access anything else in order to prevent triggering the alarm. It was frustrating to not be able to obtain CCTV footages or security codes, but Youngbae had known that this task was near impossible anyways. They’d tried that when the client first gave him and Jiyong the job to infiltrate and steal from Mr. Yang, and Youngbae had failed to accomplish it. Jiyong had patted him on the back and told him it’d be alright anyways, but looking back, Youngbae couldn't help but blame himself for failing his partner. If he had managed to scope out the security properly, perhaps Jiyong wouldn’t be locked up somewhere being tortured to death. 

The next step in the plan was for Daesung to lurk around the compound in hopes of obtaining news about where their friend was being held-- Daesung had the baby face and the sweetest lips to manipulate a bored-to-hell guard into giving away precious information. Jiyong had always said that Youngbae had too rough a face to properly tease information out of people, so Youngbae had reluctantly given this job to Daesung. 

After scouting out the place, the two of them will try to sneak a bug into the building and hopefully use it (neatly termed ‘Ladybug’, one of Youngbae’s latest inventions: an adaptation of a micro-walkie talkie) to contact Jiyong. With a communication line open, he’d be able to work an escape plan out in more detail, and coordinate with Jiyong to make the escape plan foolproof. Should the worst come to be, Vick would hopefully be in standby inside a small van parked nearby, ready to erase anyone who barred their escape. Youngbae’s lips pursed a little in distaste at the thought of Vick, the man he had previously contacted online, but they’d really needed his help this time. That man had always been a wild card, always dancing to his own tune, and if this situation goes south, he could always turn around and betray them all. In the worst case scenario, Youngbae would have to pull Daesung and himself out of the situation entirely, and Jiyong would be forced to endure in the hands of YG for much longer than Youngbae is willing to put Jiyong through. Especially, he grimaced, if we tried to break him out and failing halfway-through. 

Sighing in distress, Youngbae slurped loudly on his third cup of chamomile tea and slumped back into his favorite armchair. To add to his woes, he was feeling bloated and a little overstuffed. Daesung had been very insistent on food, stating that he’d been half-starved while away and craving for Youngbae’s homecooked meals. After many minutes of whining, Youngbae finally caved and lumbered into the kitchen and made something simple for the two of them. Their little bit of domesticality had eased the small knot of worry in the bottom of his gut, but after the meal, that feeling of wrongness had returned to him tenfold. He knows that this whole thing mustn't be rushed, else it could compromise Jiyong’s life, assuming that he isn’t dead already, but it still gnawed on his conscience to just sit around doing nothing while his best friend was MIA. 

Well, he thought, better get right back into it. He cracked his knuckles and stretched a little before getting back to work, now more determined than ever to get Jiyong out and back to where he belongs: at home in their little apartment and by their side. 

____________________________________________________

Se7en-hyung had been really strict when he’d instructed the men to pick apart at their belongings. Way too strict, Jiyong thought glumly while looking at the shattered pieces of his accessories. He had attached tiny little trinkets and mementos on his silver anklet, and Youngbae’s first design had been attached to it as well. However, it was now broken beyond repair after being body searched by Se7en’s men. They were told that their equipment had come back clean, but nothing had been returned to them in one piece. It wasn’t as if Jiyong had expected great treatment, but he’d been really offended when one of the ‘guards’ had torn off his earring. They were given some army-like clothing to wear, and Jiyong had immediately missed his own mismatched clothes. Many had criticized his (very well developed, thank you) sense of fashion, but Jiyong had always worn what he was comfortable with, be it sweatpants and a hoodie, or an overgrown cloak made of leopard printed faux fur. It never helped to disguise him, but Jiyong never had the intention to just blend in anyways. Contrary to Youngbae, even pretending to be a part of the herd makes him antsy and irritable. 

Regardless of his preference, he understands that he has at least attempt to play pretend now, lest they be taken out for not conforming. YG has been rumored to do so for less an insult than that. He had heard of a girl group that specialized in reconnaissance being demoted back into grunt work for insulting Mr. Yang behind his back-- to win his favor is not as easy as he made it look to be during their first encounter. Shrewdly, Jiyong thinks YG to be of the same type of person he is, cunning and conniving, and good at manipulating the other into underestimating them. 

After the duo had rested up, they had been brought to meet Se7en and Mr. Yang again. Their meeting had been brief and short, with Jiyong revealing Youngbae as their third man with much reluctance, and Seunghyun mentioning no one. Jiyong didn't know what to feel about that-- he was sure that the other man had his own third man as well, so why must they sacrifice Youngbae’s identity but not the other? Well, he thought wryly, now that Yang knows about Bae, looks like we won't be getting out of his web anytime soon. Jiyong had long debated with himself whether to reveal his best friend or not, but no matter what justification he had came up with, he knew deep in his heart that YG would figure out their connection sooner or later, be it from Jiyong’s own carelessness or from Youngbae’s outrageous attempts to rescue him. It's not like it's hell anyways, being under a big name does have its benefits. Protection I guess. 

Even his own internal monologue sounds like it's trying to justify itself. He sighed. At least it's not us tanking the heat?

Jiyong had also given out several other names in an attempt to distract YG from Bae’s existence; all the big shots from other mafia familigias, namely the Russians, Chinese and American mobs. He had tried to prevent stepping on toes, especially local ones, but he knew there was no turning back after this. They might have survived being a neutral party, a freelancing duo of sorts, but after this reveal, Jiyong would have to take extra care in making sure no knives get turned onto their backs. Their latest client in particular, was someone he didn't want to mess with. Especially since Vick was familiar with him. He wouldn't say they were partners per say, but he was sure that his client had hired Vick for assassination missions before. Jiyong had never met Vick personally, and he never wants to as long as he lives, but the rumors of him were as thick as cloying blood and as foul as rotting corpses. His clients had described him as a fox or a vixen when in jest, but the infamous Vick had always been compared to no animal, but as something demonic or devilish: like a freshly fallen angel on his good days, or like a demon spurned of his kill on his bad ones. Either way, Jiyong knew they were treading on dangerous waters now, and it looks like they would have to stick by YG for the time being in order to survive the backlash from his failure. 

Seunghyun, on the other hand, looks entirely too carefree in Jiyong’s opinion. He doesn't know if the other man is brave or just ignorant. Maybe his benefactor is a strong one, and could pull him out whenever he wants to stop playing around. Jiyong vows to keep a close eye on him; as they say, keep your friends close, but your potential enemies closer. Seunghyun was definitely not a sheep-- he was a wolf in disguise. 

Surprisingly, they had also been given a few toys to play around with. Certainly nothing topnotch or novel like the creations Youngbae could produce, but tools of the trade nonetheless. A pocket knife, a tiny silver chain with a gps tracker on it (what a surprise, he thought wryly), a worn looking butterfly knife that rusted along its blade, and a small packet of white powder for bribery purposes (he had been told very explicitly that if he had snorted them for his own pleasure, they’d cut off his nose. Not fun.) 

Alright, alright. He breathed in deeply, exhaling with a sigh a moment later. Let’s do this.  
_________________________________________________

Their first task was supposed to be easy. For little newbie grunties like them, a simple drug run or a regular ‘reminder’ ‘round the neighbourhood for customers to pay their dues would have been the norm. Unfortunately, the duo had been assigned to a territory that had been hotly contested by a rival gang: JYP. Now, Jiyong hadn’t been very sure of powerplays on the street, but he knew enough to stick his nose far far away from big names like theirs. YG and JYP had always bickered bitterly over little territorial disputes, but had never gone into a full-scale war. Unlike SM-YG relations, JYP still manages to keep in the semi-good books of Mr. Yang. The details, Jiyong did not know. However, they had been thrown dirty glares when they had declared themselves as YG’s. 

“Looks like we’re not welcome,” noted Seunghyun absently as they tried to breeze through the tiny backroom-turned-casino unnoticed. Jiyong spared him a quick glance before melting away into the crowd. Their plan A had been simple: intimidate everyone into buying their goods and/or get them to pay their ‘taxes’. That plan seemed crash and burn before even taking flight, seeing as the occupants of this hidey-hole did not tremble at the mention of YG. Well, Jiyong shrugged, time for their plan B. 

Slowly sliding away from Seunghyun’s side, Jiyong begun to navigate his way towards a small gambling table in the corner. His orange hair stood out like a sore thumb as he did so-- drawing all the attention whenever he moved. He thought of regretting his current hairstyle, but the usefulness of his hair had yet to diminish whenever he had to play the bait. 

Arriving at this destination, he drew up a fake smile, pearly whites showing through, and dazzled his way into a ongoing roulette game. A lady with curlers still stuck messily in her hair raised her eyebrows at his sudden entrance, indignant, but not affronted. He mentally shrugged, he could work with indignant. 

“How’s it going guys? Care for an extra hand?”

He scooped up a handful of chips and dumped them in front of said lady, faux-confidence radiating from him in waves. He put on a well-worn smirk, eyes mischievous and challenging at the same time. The arbiter greedily scooped up his chips, and silently nodded at him to ask for his bet. 

“Odds.” 

The roulette began to roll, and the lips of the arbiter twitched as the silver ball landed squarely on an even number. 

Jiyong huffed dramatically, and began to pout, pushing his lips out childishly. “Round 2?” He crossed his arms in emphasis. The arbiter rolled his eyes, and gestured towards him again. Once again, the orange-haired man lost his chips. On the third turn though, Jiyong had made sure to bet extra-- this time, he had to be extra careful to make his act look convincing. 

“Aww come on, I can’t possibly lose the 3rd time! I know my statistics!” 

The arbiter was ready to dismiss his bold claims, his hands already halfway in the act of scooping up the landed ball, but he had to stop himself when he’d realized that Jiyong had hit the jackpot. Someone had actually hit the jackpot! What?!

Jiyong pretended to cheer boisterously. The arbiter stared at him, shock turning into suspicion immediately-- he had the right to feel angry, but in all fairness, but Jiyong had learned from the best and he knew that there was no way the arbiter had seen his little sleight of hand. He allowed the other players to win a couple of rounds, placing a random amount of chips in for each bet in order to disguise his trick, but ultimately, he had won tally-up in chips. After a couple of games that turned up similarly in this fashion, he had the attention of the entire room when his pile of earnings was significantly bigger compared to the rest of the players.

“He’s obviously cheating, do you not see how big that pile of chips is? You’ve never even allowed us to get that much in a single game-!”

“What are you doing Dunking? End that rascal!”

Similar cries rung throughout the room, flustering the already harried arbiter. Jiyong tried to stretch his smile wider, making himself look more shameless than how he was already acting out to be. He obnoxiously shrugged, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his limbs arrogantly on the handrests of a plastic chair that he commandeered for himself.

The occupants of the room grew angrier. Things were just shy of becoming a full-blown riot when Jiyong saw a mop of blonde hair pass by the crowd. He wiggled his eyebrows conspicuously (or as conspicuously as he could) when Seunghyun had looked back at him in askance. The older man made a wriggly hand gesture at him in reply, and Jiyong was stumped for a moment. 

What was that? Did that mean he had gotten what we came here for or not?

Before he could try to gesture back, the older man had slipped out of the room entirely. Jiyong suppressed his violent urge to deadpan. And/or facepalm. He could never properly get a read on the other man. Deciding to trust his gut, Jiyong prepared the table for his endgame. On his next round, he magnanimously decided to donate his chips away as the arbiter’s face had started to look a little plum-like in anger.

Before he could do so, someone in the crowd (with fantastic, hawk-like sight!) manages to catch his little trick. His right wrist was snatched up tightly, and in his grasp, a silver ball glinted. The crowd roared. Jiyong quickly shook his hand free from the grasp and flicked the silver ball away before squeezing past the crowd. He ducked away from the pool table, hair in his eyes as he swerved left and right to prevent being hit or pinched unpleasantly by the angry regulars of the gambling room. Ms. Bbala, the curly haired lady player, had seen it fit to personally punish his cheating ways by trying to chuck a curler at the back of his head. By the time he was safely standing outside of the building (he was smart to take a detour), he was panting in exhaustion from having to escape from the angry mob. 

Seunghyun merely raised a finely groomed brow at him and his disheveled appearance. 

Jiyong immediately schooled his face and crossed his arms defensively, “What? Got you a distraction, ain’t it?”

Seunghyun hummed, unable to retort yet unwilling to concede. 

Jiyong eyed him warily. “The cash?”

“In the trunk of the car. Come on, let’s get out of here before any of the JYP members drop in.”

Jiyong nodded in agreement. They jogged across the street, readjusting their shades as they did so. When they were both seated safely in the car (buckled down with their seat belts worn tight, courtesy of Seunghyun leaning over to fasten Jiyong’s when he hadn’t complied), Jiyong had tried to hightail the hell out of there when the engine of their car sputtered out and died. 

“Just great.” 

Jiyong banged the palms of his hands on the steering wheel of the car. He was about to get out to kick the rubber wheels too, but Seunghyun had stopped him with a pat on the leg and a quirk of his (very expressive!) eyebrows. With a small half-smile on his face, he leaned over (again!, thought Jiyong sullenly) before using his magic fingers to somehow fix the problem.

Jiyong sat dumbfounded, jaws hanging wide. All Seunghyun did was give a gentle tap at the steering! A love-tap, to be technical! The older man took no notice of his shock and impatiently gestured for him to drive already, and so Jiyong did, his heart pitter pattering from adrenaline and his mind racing a mile a minute the entire time.

__________________________________________________

Once they had arrived at their assigned checkpoint, Se7en had his men quickly unload the goods before giving the duo a quick once-over. Satisfied that neither of them were missing a limb, he gave them curt nod of approval before dismissing them for the day. The extortion money had to be counted and stored, but that wasn’t a job entrusted to newcomers just yet. 

“Good work. This looks to be more than what we’d expected you to get, actually. The occupants of that area are notorious in being too stubborn for their own good. I’m not going to ask how you managed to coerce them to pay their dues-- just keep it up.”

Their next assignment was to raid a safehouse, then silence the witnesses who had seen drug exchanges by YG grunts. After that, they had been deployed to drive their seniors around as they attended secret meetings after secret meetings. Surprisingly, that had been the toughest task set out for them, as their drunk higher-ups were often very non-compliant (to the point of aggression) when they had tried to manhandle them back into the safety of the car once the meet had been concluded. After completing similar missions one after the other, the duo had gained a small reputation of being able to get the strangest little tasks done-- like rescuing the boss’ baby kitten and finding a pack of lost cigars. It hadn’t been the most impressive, but it was a start. In fact, by the end of the week, they’d managed to earn a formal meeting with Se7en.

The first thing that Se7en had done when they’d entered his office was to fish out a half-used package of cigarettes (Marlboro, Jiyong noted in disgust). Seunghyun had caught it mid-air when it came sailing at them, and pocketed it quickly when Jiyong didn’t seem interested in contesting it.

“Looks like yer playing with the big guns now,” he said a little stiffly. “Let’s go get your little hacker friend, YG wants to see him soon. No tricks, and everyone leaves happy, aite?” Se7en raised his left brow notedly at Jiyong.

Jiyong and Seunghyun shared a glance. They both knew what having to bring in Youngbae meant-- YG was going to assign them into a group for a specialized purpose. It had meant that YG had finished whatever reconnaissance or background check on them, and was ready to bring them into deeper, murkier waters of the trade. It was without a doubt that their tasks were about to get a whole lot riskier than playing chauffeur for their seniors. 

The orange haired man reluctantly followed Se7en into a black car prepared for them, and sat glumly as they drove towards the direction of Jiyong and Youngbae’s safehouse. He thought of how Seunghyun had avoided his gaze when Jiyong had inquired if he had wanted to come along. Stung, Jiyong had tried to play it off as nothing personal, but he had hoped that Seunghyun would have come to back him up if things soured. He didn’t know what would happen once these YG minions had barged into their sanctuary, and Jiyong would’ve prefered to have one extra pair of friendly eyes (and arms) to keep a lookout for them during the big reveal. 

He had been so lost in thought about his mental dilemma of wanting Seunghyun to reciprocate in his friendship and wanting to handle his personal problems by himself, that he did not react immediately when he hears a tiny ticking noise from below his seat. 

Panicked, someone in the car (Jiyong couldn’t even see straight, much less differentiate voices) yelled for them to “Get out! Now! Bomb!”

He scrambled for the handles of the car but found them to be locked tight-- he clambered to the front and tried to get the driver to “Open the fucking doors now!” to no avail-- as the driver himself was unable to open the front doors. Fingers hurriedly bashed against buttons and switches, but all of a sudden, nothing in the car had responded to their attempts to control it. They could not even turn off the AC, nor change gears, nor force the car into breaking into a halt. 

Jiyong refused to allow the despair to creep into his vision, and frantically worked his brain for a plan B. There’s always a plan B, there’s always a way, he thought a little hysterically. He will not go down without giving himself at least a fighting chance to get back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4: Assassination Attempt?

**Author's Note:**

> Please be gentle! This is my first fic ;-;


End file.
